


Bum Me One

by WhiskerBiscuit



Series: The Assassin and the Prostitute [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Drabble, Language, M/M, Pining, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24830953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskerBiscuit/pseuds/WhiskerBiscuit
Summary: An assassin and a prostitute are roommates. Clearly they get along perfectly.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Assassin and the Prostitute [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796134
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Bum Me One

He comes home at 5 pm and finds Wren leaning out the window, smoking a cigarette and staring at the dirty streets beneath them.

“I thought I asked you not to smoke in the house.”

“I’m not, dumbass, it’s outside. See?” Hands fling out dramatically, and the cigarette taps against the window sill. Ash dribbles down onto some unfortunate soul below.

“The smell still lingers. I’d rather not choke on your bad decisions.”

“You can choke on something else if you want.”

Four sighs and props his sword carefully against the wall by the door. He can feel Wren’s smirk on him as he passes by towards the bathroom to clean up.

“You couldn’t even do it off the balcony?”

“It’s fuckin’ cold, I’m not freezing my fine ass off for a fag.” The younger man puts out the flame and flicks the cigarette out the window, then saunters behind Four.

“It’s not that bad. I was just out for 3 hours.”

“Yeah it is, you’re all bundled up in assassin’s spandex. Probably got heating pads or something in them.”

The older man pauses in the doorway. His head rolls incredulously towards his roommate.

“.... ‘Assassin’s spandex.’”

“Yeah.”

Four stares at him a long time, then shuts the door. Wren comes up and leans against it, just in time to hear the lock click. He chuckles.

“You’re still doing that? I told you it was an accident.”

Silence from the other side.

“Did something piss you off today? You’re more moody than usual.”

Still nothing. Wren thumps his head against the door with the most put-upon sigh he can manage. “Don’t tell me it was me! What have I done to earn such shunning? Was it the cigarette? Last night when I was playing with your sword? This morning when I ate the last of the quiche?”

A muffled curse from the bathroom, then the lock unclicks and the door opens just barely.

“What did you just say about my sword.” Four’s voice is as calm as a venomous snake right before a strike.

“Uh…..Did I say playing with your sword? That was just a metaphor for me actually playing with your d-”

An ungloved hand shoots out and shoves Wren back so fast he barely has the chance to see it before he falls on his butt. The assassin opens the door completely, still masked but with significantly less of his gear on, glaring bloody daggers at his roommate.

 _“Don’t touch my equipment, Wren,”_ he snarls silently. “If I find out you do something like that again you’re a dead man, you got that?”

“Yeah, yeah man, sure.” The prostitute is still sprawled on the ground, giving Four the most sincere look he can manage. His gaze drifts down to the other’s bare hands, not used to seeing them outside of white and red.

“I mean it, Wren. I’ll string you up like a fucking pig.”

“That’s kinda hot,” his mouth runs on autopilot. He twitches as Four twitches, expecting to be skewered for the comment, but instead the older man just shakes his head and returns to the bathroom.

After a moment the faucet starts running, so Wren drops his head and stares at the stained ceiling. He doesn’t move when Four finally emerges, changed into civilian clothes with just the mask on as the sign of his true profession. Doesn’t move when he idly nudges his knee with his foot to confirm he’s not dead.

Doesn’t move when he turns the lights off and heads to the kitchen to make himself dinner.

Just stares at the ceiling and wonders why he has to be stuck with such a fun-sucking, boring, _attractive_ son of a bitch.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prelude to a longer series I've started working on, based on characters by a good friend of mine. If anyone's interested, here's his [tumblr](https://sugarvamgar.tumblr.com/). Can't remember if he posted the boys there but the larger story will include pics. For now, please enjoy this sad little blurb of these two hopeless disasters.


End file.
